


Stoic & Strong; Stupid & Stubborn

by rollercoastermoon



Category: Pacific Rim (Movies)
Genre: Anxiety Attacks, PTSD, Post-Movie: Pacific Rim: Uprising (2018), Whumptober, he deserved better, poor Newt, shaking hands prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-03
Updated: 2019-10-03
Packaged: 2020-11-22 21:17:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,284
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20880830
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rollercoastermoon/pseuds/rollercoastermoon
Summary: Newt can tie his tie he can't he can't-- Newt has tied many ties before--beforeNewt cannot tie his tie right now -- Newt can tie a tie. But not today because today Newt cannot get his hands to do what he is telling them to do because his hands are shaking way too hard they’re stupid and not listening to what he is trying to do—





	Stoic & Strong; Stupid & Stubborn

**Author's Note:**

> Part of the Whumptober 2019 Challenge. Prompt 01: Shaky Hands
> 
> I’m only 2 days late. That’s good for me.

Newt can tie his tie he can't he can't-- Newt has tied many ties before--_before_

Newt cannot tie his tie right now -- Newt can tie a tie. But not today because today Newt cannot get his hands to do what he is telling them to do because his hands are shaking way too hard they’re stupid and not listening to what he is trying to do and –oh _god_ no no no **you**promisedthey'regoneyoupromisedyoupromisedyoucould_die_soyoupomised**Hermann**yo-

A hand, solid and strong and steady, so unlike Newt's, floats into his blurry vision, touches the side of his head, his shoulder, and then Hermann is there, slowly folding himself down to kneel in front of Newt. Newt thinks: ‘_No, don’t do that you’ll hurt yourself._’ and ‘Hermann you promised they’re gone,’ and he can’t get either of those sentences out his stupid mouth because that’s not listening to him either and he just makes a distressed whimpering wheeze of a sound because he can’t breathe in or out and he can’t he can’t he can’t

“Newton, breathe.” Hermann says, strong and solid and all commanding. 

So much command in his voice that Newt listens automatically, and gasps in a breath. It stutters out before he can really even expand his chest, and Hermann’s so blurry in front of him – why is he blurry? – but Newt can see the worry in Hermann’s eyes, even as he keeps his face stoic and strong. So he tries again.

“Here,” Hermann says, calm so calm, and reaches out, taking Newt’s shaking, not listening hand and puts it to his chest, over his heart, so Newt can feel him breathing, part of Newt knows this, Hermann’s done it what feels like a hundred times since Newt got his body and brain back— but the part of him that understands what is going on is _not_ the part of Newt that is in control right now, not at the forefront of his brain.

He lets out a wordless cry that could be considered a shriek and tries to launch backwards, out of Hermann’s reach. Rather, he wants to remove his reach from Hermann. His head hits the tiled wall behind him with a thud, and Hermann lets go of his hand.

Newt puts his stupid uncontrollable hands under his thighs, sits on them like he used to have to do in school to try and keep himself under control. Whenever his hands or feet or whatever had to just _move_ he’d try and trap them and oh god his body has always kind of done what it wants no wonder he didn’t realize he was being possessed by an evil alien hive mind hellbent on destroying humans and-fuck!-Hermann until it was way too late. 

“Alright, Newton,” Hermann says to him, still so calm while Newt tries and rock all his weight on to his stupid hands trapped between his legs and the tiles. “No touching. Just watch me, my dear, and breathe with me, alright?”

Hermann takes exaggerated breaths. Newt tries to follow, fails, whines: “You promised They’re gone,” and sees on Hermann’s face that he knows exactly who he means.

“Don’t talk, just breathe,” he says, not missing a beat on the steady cycle he’s setting. “Breathe and then we can talk, Newton.”

Newt tries, he really does try to keep his words in his head and not pouring out his mouth so he can breathe like Hermann wants him to, like he knows he needs to, but he can’t focus on keeping the words he’s thinking in and his hands under his legs and breathing in and out and in and out and he blurts out, breathless: “I can’t make my hands listen, Hermann,” it’s a whine, an plea. “If They’re back you have to go, now. Go.”

Hermann doesn’t go. 

Newt growls, rocks forward and pulls on his hair with both hands before he realizes it, hates that he’s not strong enough to even sit on his hands and keep them still, presses his face to his knees and just screams “Go,” over and over as he pulls and scrapes his nails along his scalp.

Newt knows three things:   
He’s weak  
and   
They’re back   
and  
Hermann will die.

He wants Hermann to leave. Wants him to leave and go and not be here if They’re back, because They will make him kill Hermann for real this time and Newt has too much blood on his traitorous hands already, thank you very much, he cannot survive the idea of hurting Hermann. Hermann who saved him from being shot or rotting away in a cell like he deserved, Hermann who drifted with him to save him from the Precursors in his head and now won’t leave but is gently rubbing a hand up and down Newt’s back, gently shushing him like the grandpa librarian he is, Hermann is still here, not trying to get away, not running, because he is stupid and stubborn. 

“I can’t tie my tie,” Newt says, after how long he’s not sure, just that his hands hurt from gripping his hair and his back is warm from Hermann’s hand. He’s still curled forward into his knees.

“You’re hands aren’t out of your control, Newton. They’re just shaking. _All_ of you is shaking,” Hermann answers, putting together what Newt was trying to tell him, because he’s smart and he knows Newt. They’re Drift Compatible, after all. 

Newt sits up. Hermann is blurry, and he realizes it’s because he’s crying. He rubs the heal of his hands into his eyes, to clear them. He doesn’t say anything, doesn’t know what to say. But he’s breathing right, well, a little fast, but it feels like he’s getting actual air into his lungs, now.

“You were already nervous about this meeting today, Newton,” Hermann continues on, gently. Sometimes, sometimes, Newt needs to hear a reminder of reality, of what’s happened in the day or will happen, he gets so lost in his thoughts and hours will pass that the doesn’t really remember. “Just a little anxiety made your hands shaky. Which lead to an anxiety attack. No Precursors.”

Newt does remember, now: the meeting to update the Marshal and various other scary powerful men (and women) on Newt’s progress. His doctors, medical and mental, will be there to either declaring him sane or insane or worse: still possessed evil alien hive mind hellbent on destroying humans. And Hermann. 

His psychiatrist said he wasn’t ready. The higher ups don’t care. Newt’s inclined to agree. They’ve given him so much of a chance already, so much time. 

So he was trying to get ready, put on a suit. Stupid tie. He takes a shaky breath, and frowns at Hermann. “What time is it?”

Hermann checks his watch because he’s the kind of guy that wears a watch, while Newt, especially now Newt with no where to go except therapy, is not. Hermann smiles at him, a reassuring smile. They must not be running late yet – Hermann always makes Newt start things way earlier than the old Newt would have, but the old Newt is long gone. The new Newt needs time built in to his day for freak outs. 

“We’ve got enough time for you wash your face and for me to tie your tie for you, which you should have asked me to do anyway. You never properly do it.” Hermann tells him. 

That startles a laugh out of Newt. He can’t be that bad if Hermann is poking at him. He scrubs his hands over his face another time, and then pushes himself to his feet. He reaches down to help Hermann up. 

His hand doesn’t shake.


End file.
